


Preacher's Son

by hercoldhands (SumiArana)



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff and Smut, High School AU, Homophobia, M/M, Preacher's Son AU, Teen Piers, homophobic parent, smut in later chapters, teen steve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:47:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28166460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SumiArana/pseuds/hercoldhands
Summary: Steve gets caught with some R-Rated magazines tucked under his mattress. His parents, not so keen on the fact their teenage son has nudie mags featuring men, force him to Church in hopes to 'make him right.' Steve finds himself inexplicably being drawn to the Preacher's Son, Piers.
Relationships: Steve Burnside/Piers Nivans
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Preacher's Son

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Project Ixion](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Project+Ixion).



> Ummm I'm just gonna throw another 'homophobia' and 'technically underage' warning out there. Steve and Piers are both in their late teens, but if that's something that squick you out, please click back! 
> 
> This is a b-day fic that my friend Ixi asked me to write for him! It was supposed to be part of Kinktober but I got overwhelmed. This will be a multi-chapter fic, of how many I am not sure lol.

Church definitely had to be Steve’s least favorite activity. It was Sunday. In his opinion, he deserved to be sleeping in, or eating cinnamon rolls or listening to Nirvana or doing literally anything else at all. And yet, here he was, in a stupid, stiff button down and scratchy slacks and shiny shoes that pinched his feet when he walked. He hated every aspect of it. 

He was currently being punished. His parents had found some dirty magazines he kept  _ under his mattress.  _ He’d argued that it wasn’t fair for his parents to be invading his privacy like that, but they just shot back with “Our house, our rules.” He’d had his magazines taken away, probably trashed, gotten a lecture and they’d started coming to church the following Sunday.

He couldn’t help but wonder if they would be here if he’d had dirty magazines with girls in them. He’d overheard some of the things his Father had to say had to say about him and he wasn’t particularly happy about it. He’d wanted to send him to a Camp far away to “make him right.” Thankfully, his mother had put an end to that. She’d compromised with Sunday Mass, though she wasn’t ecstatic about the development either.

Steve let his mind wander as the Preacher droned on. He’d gotten pretty good at tuning voices out; his parents fought a lot. But as he found his mind wandering, he took notice of one of the people at the front of the Chapel. A boy about his age with slicked back chestnut brown hair, not a single strand out of place. He wore a dark brown vest over a plain white button down, dark blue slacks and light colored tennis shoes. He’d never seen him before but he was instantly drawn to him. 

He sat up a little straighter, tried to listen a little better while also narrowing down who he was, exactly. Was he an Altar Boy? A volunteer? Did he play the Organ? He didn’t know much about the inner-workings of church so that didn’t help at all. 

Steve wouldn’t mind if he played with  _ his _ organ, to be honest. There was something about fantasizing about another boy during Church that made Steve feel absolutely filthy. But he loved it. He shifted just a bit, leaning forward to conceal any uh… unsightly bulges that might be cropping up.

Before he knew it, the service was over. People were rising around them, shuffling out of the pews. Some people chatted in the aisles, others filed outside. He blinked a few times, glancing around at the people as they shuffled around.

Steve’s Father was up first, giving a couple of quick goodbyes before heading towards the door as quickly as his legs could carry him. Obviously he didn’t want to be here.

Steve had a very devious little idea. He got up slowly, stretching his arms over his head.

“I’ll catch up with you guys outside. That was a really good sermon.” Was that the right word? He had no idea. “I wanna talk to the Priest, introduce myself.”

“Pastor.” His mother corrected him gently, touching his back and giving a warm smile. “Okay, I’ll wait with your Father outside. Don’t take too long, okay?” They both knew what happened if Dad got mad.

“Promise.” But he was already walking up the middle aisle as the church quickly emptied. He stood a bit back from the Pastor, shoving his hands awkwardly into his pockets as he waited for the man to finish talking to a blonde woman in a flowy pink dress.

“Ah, it’s Mr. Burnside, isn’t it?” The man smiled, taking a few steps towards the ginger. He was tall with dark brown hair and kind eyes. His voice was much softer and sweeter now that he wasn’t preaching the evils of Pre-Marital Sex. “I believe I spoke to your mother on the phone this week.”

Ah, great. He wondered if she outed him too. But he gave the best attempt at a genuine smile he could muster, taking a few steps to meet him and sticking his hand out to introduce himself. He was playing the good influence, the good kid who listened during church. Not the kind that skipped school to smoke pot in the park.

“It’s Steve.” Mr. Burnside is my Father and he’s an asshole, he wanted to say. But he guessed that kind of talk wouldn’t be okay in the Lord’s House. So he just smiled and shook the man’s hand, trying to keep his eyes trained on the man in front of him and not the pretty little altar boy to his side. 

He faked the rest of the way through the conversation before he could peel away, taking a few steps to introduce himself to the boy. He held out a hand, smirking a bit as introduced himself. 

“I’m Steve. I’m new here. I uh… my parents were talkin’ about me hangin’ out with someone that was a, uh,  _ positive influence. _ ” There was the smallest smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. His thoughts were far from pure and wholesome at the moment.

“Piers.” He was busying himself with stacking papers neatly on the pew, glancing up to the redhead. “You’re the one who got caught with magazines under his bed, right?” A little smirk pulling at his corner to mirror Steve’s. 

_ Ah shit, Thanks Mom. _ He thought bitterly, trying to swallow his annoyance. Now everyone was going to know. He mostly cared about his porn habits being told to everyone; he had pretty much come to terms with the fact that he liked guys. He’d kept it from his parents because his dad had a homphobic streak and he didn’t want to get kicked out. Maybe it’d be different now if he had told them before? Either way, it didn’t matter.

So he decided to smirk and own it. Maybe Piers would be impressed. Maybe he would want nothing to do with him. At the very least, every moment he lingered inside probably annoyed the shit out of his Dad. That was a win in his book.

“Yeah.” He wanted to ask if he knew  _ what  _ kind of magazines. Obviously he knew they were dirty, but did he know the details? He only had one or two (well-worn) hardcore ones, the others had been soft core; just beautiful men with big dicks and muscles. He didn’t even have a type; he salivated over Bears, over Twinks, over men twice his age with silver hair and guys his own age. Did Piers know about his subscription to Lavender? 

Piers said nothing as he began to break down a couple of folding chairs, his movements quick like he was anxious, tucking them out of the way before turning his attention back to Steve. 

“You don’t seem embarrassed.” Steve couldn’t quite place what was in Piers’s voice. He felt like he was being judged and it rattled him a bit. But he tried to keep his cool. 

“I’m not.” He shoved his hands in his pocket again, kicking lightly at the floor with his shiny shoes. “Just wish I’d hidden them better. They threw ‘em all away.” He smiled weakly at that. That was, truthfully, all he regretted. Those magazines had been well loved. And he was just going to get more and find a better hiding place for them, but… it had taken a while to build his collection and he was not excited about starting over.

Piers hesitated, taking a few steps in front of Steve, looking him over. As if he was evaluating him. Looking over his clothes, his hair, his hands, slowly studying his face. He finally leaned forward, eyes narrowed a bit and brow knit. 

“Were they really...” He dropped his voice low for the second part of his question. “Gay magazines?” But he didn’t seem like he was trying to be mean, or that he was afraid of him. He seemed… intrigued. So Steve smirked softly and leaned close enough to murmur back into his ear.

“Yeah. Hardcore  _ and _ softcore. Does that scare you?”

But the other boy drew away and cleared his throat, turning away from the redhead. The brief glimpse of his expression made it hard for Steve to decipher what he was thinking. 

“I have to keep cleaning. There’s a Senior group that comes in to play Bridge in half an hour.” Piers kept his back to Steve, but the redhead could see the skin around his ears turning pink. “I’ll see you next week, Steve.”

Steve smirked softly. Piersmay have been hard to read, but that didn’t mean the redhead was going to be giving up any time soon. 

“Okay. I’ll see you next week.” He gave a little wave and turned, leaving the now otherwise empty hall. He was quite satisfied too, to see that his Dad was sitting in the driver’s side of the car and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. He slid into the backseat and buckled, trying to look as grumpy as he could.

-x-

Steve thought about the Preacher’s boy quite a bit during the coming week. Once when he woke up hard as a rock and a few other times that were a bit more tame. He had half of a mind to see if there was a realistic reason he could go back to the Church and not seem desperate. Bible Study? Maybe he could volunteer his time? Say he needed a positive environment? He knew his parents wouldn’t object - it might even annoy his Dad which was always a plus. 

But it was almost as if maybe there was a higher power looking out for him. Friday morning as he sat down at the table for breakfast, his mother smiled warmly at him over her cup of earl gray. 

“The Preacher of our new Church called me this morning. He said that his son Piers has really taken a liking to you and was asking for you to come after class. He said something about a Bible Study class.” She beamed, touching his hand gently. “I am so proud of you, taking an interest in Religion.”

He didn’t dare tell her it’s because he wanted to fuck the Preacher’s Son silly. Bend him over a pew and pound him until they both came hard and were panting little messes. So he just squeezed her hand and smiled back as innocently as he could manage. 

“Sure. I’ll stop by after school.” He gave a little shrug. The butterflies in his stomach had him so excited that he was seriously considering skipping school to go early, but ultimately decided to go. He may have to be in this for the long haul and if his grades improved his parents wouldn’t be suspicious about spending time at the Church. 

Steve picked his clothes out for school very carefully; he wanted to look good but he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard. He ended up picking a pair of dark jeans, a gray and black plaid flannel with a band t-shirt underneath it. He finished the whole look off with a necklace made of thick silver chain and a padlock and a pair of high top converse he’d stolen from the mall. He even made sure he was freshly showered and brushed his teeth. He looked good and he felt good.

He made sure he dipped out quickly to avoid his parents; they wouldn’t approve of an outfit like this and he was most certainly not wearing his slacks and button down to school. He had an  _ image _ to protect, thank you very much Mom and Dad. 

The redhead could hardly concentrate at school, getting scolded by two of his teachers about paying more attention. Minutes felt like hours and he kept anxiously glancing at the clock. He had the realization mid-way through the day that he needed to manage his expectations as his imagination began to run wild.

He told himself, best case scenario he gets to pin the younger boy to the wall and they can make out. Worse case scenario, he sat through real Bible Study. He said goodbye to his friends as soon as that last bell rang.

Piers greeted him at the church. He was still dressed well, though it was toned down a bit compared to what Steve had seen him in previously. A kind of forest green polo shirt and khaki’s. He still looked prim and proper. And to tell the truth, Steve kind of liked it. Like a beauty and the beast thing; opposites attract. 

“Nirvana?” He asked, eyeing the bright yellow print on the black shirt under Steve’s flannel.

“Yeah, they’re my favorite.” He flashed a toothy grin at the boy. “Nevermind is like, probably my favorite album of all time. A masterpiece.” 

“I’m only supposed to listen to Christian Rock. and Country.” Though, he did enjoy most country music. He dropped his voice a bit though, leaning closer to Steve. “Maybe you can introduce me to Nirvana.” There was that ghost of a smirk again.

Oh, Steve planned on doing a lot more than that. He smirked softly back, an eyebrow raising slightly as he had a devious question pop into his mind.

“The Band?” He smirked wider, eyes studying his face. “Or the feeling?” 

Piers cleared his throat and turned away, his ears burning bright again. He held the door open for Steve and gestured for the red head to follow him. He didn’t talk again for a few moments as he led him to the back of the building. They passed a few empty rooms, the last one with a handmade sign that read “Bible Study” and in smaller print below that, “6pm to 8pm Friday.”

Oh, so there really was a bible study. Steve’s excitement faltered at that. Though he couldn’t help but cock an eyebrow when he glanced at the clock. It was 3:45. Seemed like an awfully long time to get things settled. Maybe he did have a chance, afterall. 

He wasn’t sure how to approach the topic. He could straight up ask him. Or, he could play nice and wait to see exactly what Piers wanted. He decided on the former as he stowed his backpack under one of the plastic foldable tables and turned to the younger boy with a grin.

“So what do we need to do to get this rolling? I’ve never been to bible study before.”

“We have to get the chairs set up, the refreshments ready…” Which, cumulatively, would take no more than thirty or forty five minutes. He pulled a small keyring out of his pocket as he crossed the room. He opened the closet, slipping the key back into his pocket and handing Steve a small stack of chairs.

Steve took them and waited for more, his other arm outstretched.

Piers cocked an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I can carry more.” He made a grabby gesture with his hand. It was a long moment of silence before the brunette sighed and passed another arm full of chairs. He usually did this alone every week and those chairs got  _ heavy. _ But he didn’t argue, just watching Steve struggle to turn and carry the metal chairs back across the room.

Piers leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. A small smirk playing on his lips. He saw the chairs in Steve’s left hand start to slip. The other boy struggled to catch them, squeezing his elbow tight against his body as he grasped at the chairs in his other hand. There was a string of curses - he tried to censor himself, he really did - but then the chairs slipped right out of his sweaty palm and clattered to the ground.

Steve stood still for a moment, wiping his hands against his jeans. Making a little frustrated noise in his throat, giving both of his hands a shake before bending and picking up as many chairs as he could. He left the rest on the floor, carefully stepping over them. He tried to act like none of that happened, turning to face Piers.

“Where do you want these?”

Piers shook his head at the redhead for a moment, his brows knitted together in what Steve would come to find was his ‘I-told-you-so’ expression. 

“We usually sit in a big circle in the middle of the room. Just not too close to the refreshment table.” Piers grabbed a much smaller stack of chairs, closing the distance between them. “You know, you don’t have to show off for me.” 

“Wasn’t showin’ off.” Steve shrugged a bit, leaning the stack against the wall before starting to set them up. His rows were uneven though, and as soon as he went to get another round, Piers stepped up to even them quickly.

“You’ve never set up for an event before, have you?” Piers teased lightly. 

With a little bit of guidance and a bit more teasing, the chairs were set up. They shared lots of glances and little light touches that could be brushed off as accidental. He found himself wondering if they were intentional or he was thinking too much about it.

“See? You did a good job. Once you listened.” He glanced to the redhead who couldn’t help but roll his eyes, gently resting his hand on Steve’s lower back for a very short moment before he was clearing his throat and drawing away. “Follow me. We’ll do the refreshment table next.”

“Hard t’listen with you giving me shit all the time.” He grinned but then covered his mouth a few seconds after he realized he’d cussed again. That had to be frowned upon, right? “Sorry.”

“Not a big deal.” He slowed his steps to walk beside Steve, his hands shoved in his pockets again. Like he was almost afraid to leave his hands free because they might wander.

“So… why’d you ask me to help?”

“You said your parents wanted a good influence, right? I’m as good as they come. Squeaky clean.” He actually smiled now, the first genuine one he’d seen from the boy. His eyes scanned the hallway as they pushed open the door to enter the modest kitchen. “And… I’ve never met anyone else my age that likes boys.” 


End file.
